


For Her

by Squid_Ink



Series: The Eagle and the Cross [50]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Arno's mentioned, F/F, Femslash, Sad, Vampire AU, sequel of sorts to Amarathine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7843888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London, 1868</p><p>Pulled from the Thames by a mysterious woman, Evie Frye has no idea that the woman would be someone she would share a deep passion with or that the woman has a dark secret of her own. [Sequel of sorts to Amaranthine]</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Evie first met the woman with hair the color of flames, when the woman had hauled her out of the Thames. Evie doesn’t remember much of it, unconscious and everything, but as she came too she remembered the feel of ice cold lips against hers and eyes such a vivid blue-green that Evie felt she was staring into the sea. She then began to cough, rolling onto her side and spitting out water. “Evie! Evie! Evie!”

            It was Jacob, and his voice was growing closer; Evie glanced at her savior. The red-haired woman looked up like a frightened deer, staring in the direction of Jacob’s voice. She glanced at Evie once more, a sad expression on her face before she vanished in a blink. “Evie!” Jacob cried, falling to her side and pulling her protectively into his embrace. “Evie, are you alright?”

            “Yeah,” Evie whispered, taking in great gulps of air. She curled into Jacob’s embrace, the sound of his heart soothing, yet she couldn’t get the woman’s face out of mind. She looked so ethereal and so tragically sad. _I wonder if I’ll ever see her again._ Evie thought. _I have to thank her properly. She saved my life._

           

            Upon their second encounter, Evie nearly lost her mark, but the target had come up short when he saw the mysterious woman appear in his path. She gave a smile, her lips corpse-pale. The man yelped and ran back only to be caught by Evie. Evie grabbed him, and was about to slam her hidden blade into his neck when her savoir said, “don’t.”

            “Why?” Evie asked, holding the struggling man. The red haired woman didn’t say anything, merely walked up to the Blighter, pushed his head aside gently and pulled down his collar. Evie watched the flicker of his pulse. The woman kissed it before biting him. Evie gasped, taking a step back and pressing herself up against the wall. “God have mercy,” she whispered, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away as the woman fed on the man until he grew still. Evie watched as he crumbled to the ground when the vampiress let him go.

            “Kill him,” the vampiress said, her English accented with French. “If you choose. It’ll be a mercy.”

            “Vampires… are not really,” Evie forced out, though everything before her spoke of the opposite. The vampiress smiled, her lips a bloody red as she walked up to Evie.

            “Do your eyes deceive you, Assassin?” she asked, placing her hands on either side of Evie’s head. Evie slowly shook her head. The woman smiled again, before cupping Evie’s face and kissing her. Evie gasped in shocked, tasting the blood of the dead man on the vampiress’s lips and the unnatural warmth in his skin. The vampiress pulled away.

            “Wh-Who are you?” Evie asked, licking the blood from her lips. “How do you know I’m an Assassin?”

            “Because I was once the thing you hunted,” the woman said, she touched the necklace at her throat. She gave Evie that sad look again, before walking away, her shoes clicking against the cobbles, loud in the unearthly stillness of the night.

            “Wait!” Evie called, pushing herself away from the wall. The vampiress turned, a curious look on her face. “Thank you,” Evie said, “for pulling me out of the Thames.”

            She smiled. “Don’t squander the gift I had given then.”

 

            After that encounter, Evie began to seek out the woman herself. Starrick was dead, the shroud protected, yet London still needed her help. Hunting this woman gave Evie something to do. Each time she felt she got closer, her quarry vanished, giving her the slip. Evie began to wonder if the vampiress enjoyed the thrill of the chase. “Who is this person that you’re hunting, sweet sister?” Jacob asked, one evening on the train as Evie checked and double checked to make sure she had everything. “A Templar?”

            “I’m not sure,” Evie replied. “Don’t you have some pubs to go to and cheat at their card tables?”

            “Evie,” Jacob said, offense in his voice. “I never cheat at cards!” Evie snorted. “Everyone else does.”

            Evie rolled her eyes and drew up her hood. “I’ll back by morning,” she said opening the side door and jumping onto the tracks. She watched as the train rattled by. “Now,” Evie said, “to hunt you.” She said, and fired her grappling hook into the nearest building and zipped up to the roof. She dove into her senses, the second sight allowing her to search for whom she hunted. She found the woman, walking among the people of London. Evie followed her along the rooftops for several blocks before jumping down into a cart full of leaves.

            When she popped out and searched for the woman again with her second sight, she had vanished. “I could’ve sworn…” Evie muttered as she passed an alley. She felt a cold hand on her wrist and she was being tugged into the darkness, back pressed up against the wall. The vampiress pressed herself up against Evie and kissed Evie’s neck, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips.

            “You found me,” the vampiress purred, “was the chase not fun, little Assassin?”

            “I would have your name,” Evie hissed but made no move to push her away. The vampiress took a step back and smiled.

            “Very well, I’m Élise de la Serre,” she said, “as I was known in life.”

            “Élise de la Serre?” Evie whispered, her lessons coming back to her. “You… you were the Templar lover of the French Assassin, Arno Dorian. He died in Franciade about a month after your death.”

            Élise gave Evie a brittle broken smile. “Yes,” she breathed. “That who I was… in life at least.”

            “What do you want?” Evie asked. “Why save me? Why… _kiss_ me?”

            “Because you are so young,” Élise said, closing the gap again between her and Evie, “so full of vitality,” she lifted Evie’s chin and stared into her blue-green eyes, “you make me remember what it felt like to be alive.”

            “You want the—”

            “The Shroud of Eden? Pah!” Élise said, turning away from Evie. “I no longer believe in such things. My new life… has given me a clarity I never had when I was mortal. Templar, Assassin, they all die in the end. What’s the point in trying to guide humanity to a brighter future when they rather wallow in their own shit?” Élise hissed. “No, little Assassin, I don’t want the Shroud, or the Sword, or the Apple or any other Piece of Eden.”

            “Evie,” Evie said.

            “Pardon?” Élise looked at her, confusion written all over her face.

            “My name. It’s Evie Frye,” Evie said. Élise smiled.

            “Evie,” she said, “it suits you.”

            “If you aren’t in London for the Shroud, then why are you here?” Evie asked. She glanced at either end of the alley, but nobody stopped to take a peek. Élise leaned against the wall, folding her arms over her chest.

            “My mistress is in the city. We left France after Napoleon I died, we came here for the glitz and the glamour,” Élise rolled her eyes, “I haven’t gotten out much since… Arno’s death.” Élise said and Evie noticed that she touched her necklace again. “Hardly left my mistress’s side, but Arno’s been dead for seventy-four years and I felt it was time to see the sights.”

            “Then why pull me from the Thames?” Evie asked.

            “Curiosity,” Élise replied with a nonchalant shrug. “Like I told you, you remind me of what it’s like to be alive.” Élise walked up to Evie again. “Let’s be friends then, Evie,” Élise said. Evie’s eyes grew wide. “Show me London. All of it. I want to feel London; I want to feel alive again.”

            “A-Alright,” Evie replied. Élise smiled, the tips of her fangs poking out from beneath her lips.

            “Excellent.”

            The next few weeks past in a blur for Evie. Élise was unlike any person she had ever met. The vampiress took sheer join in the littlest of things, like carriage races, building climbing and fight clubs. Each night Evie spent with Élise brought them closer and Evie remembered when Jacob told her how he felt about Maxwell Roth. Her brother had confessed to her, when they went to the man’s grave, that he had loved Roth.

            Evie remembered when she first kissed Élise. The vampiress had kissed her plenty of times, but they were toying and teasing kisses with no real meaning behind them. This time though, Evie had kissed Élise and it felt deliciously good, like warm tea on a cold winter’s day and it stoked a fire in her belly she never even knew was lit.

            They had been running, Evie couldn’t remember from whom, but they were laughing and giggling like mad as they stumbled into the alley. Evie gasped for breath, and Élise stood there perfectly still staring up at the night sky, a pensive expression on her face. “Never…” Evie gasped, “never again.”

            Élise gifted her with a mischievous grin. “But we had fun,” Élise counted, pushing Evie against the wall. Evie panted, her eyes wide as she stared at Élise. Impulse struck her and she pulled the vampiress’s face towards hers and kissed her. Evie thought Élise’s corpse cold hands felt wonderful against her flushed skin.

            Time slowed and all Evie cared about was Élise. The softness of her lips, the lack of her heartbeat against her palm, she silkiness of her hair, so brilliantly red like flames. Evie pulled away, reluctant, but unlike Élise, she needed air. “Evie?” Élise whispered, her voice tender.

            “I… I should go,” Evie said, pushing Élise away.

            “What? Why?” Élise asked, but Evie remained mute and ran off. “Evie? Evie? Evie!” Élise called, but Evie didn’t look back.

 

           Élise began to invade Evie’s thoughts and she had taken to avoiding the woman whenever she spotted her in the dark alleys at night. She lost sleep, snapped at Henry and Jacob, and began to make stupid mistakes on missions. “Evie this isn’t like you,” Jacob said one day over dinner. “C’mon, tell me what’s eating at you.”

            “I’m fine Jacob,” Evie hissed.

            “Did you and Henry get into a fight?”

            “No.”

            “Is it because of Father’s death? The anniversary is almost here.”

            “No.”

            “Is it me? I’ll admit I’ve been spending a lot of time with Selene and I’ve been slacking in my missions, but I get them done and—”

            “No, Jacob!” Evie snapped. “It has nothing to do with you! It’s me! It’s… I…” Evie huffed, looking away. Jacob stared at his sister before pulling her into a hug. “I must tell you something,” Evie whispered.            

            “Dear god your pregnant,” Jacob said, “does Henry know? Is he the father? Because if he isn’t, just tell me the low life bloke that did get ya pregnant an’ I’ll go bash his brains in until he does right by ya. I swear it Evie.”

            Evie chuckled, hugging her brother tightly. “I’m not pregnant Jacob.”

            “Oh,” Jacob relaxed, “well, that’s good. I’m not ready to be an uncle yet.”

            Evie laughed and looked up at her brother. “That woman… the one that pulled me from the Thames.”

            “I remember, what about her?” Jacob asked.

            “I think… I love her,” Evie whispered. “But… she’s… not… she’s not like us.”

            “She’s a Templar,” Jacob said. “It’s okay, I won’t tell Henry or George.”

            “No, she’s not even a Templar… she was once, a long time ago,” Evie said. “Promise me you won’t freak out?”

            “Sweet sister, there is a lot that I can handle,” Jacob replied.

            “She’s a vampiress,” Evie whispered. Jacob went still then pushed Evie away and stared at her, baffled. “I’m serious Jacob. I know you don’t believe in ghosts but—”

            “You’re damn right I don’t believe in bloody ghosts!” he shouted. “Evie, I don’t think you should be seeing her. She’s playing you, there are no such things as vampires.”

            “I saw her, though Jacob. I saw her drink a man’s blood. Bite his neck and everything!” Evie looked up at Jacob. “Please, believe me. I would ever lie to you,” Evie asked. Jacob opened his mouth then closed it and shook his head.

            “No, no you wouldn’t Evie,” he whispered. “So you love her?”

            “It scares me, Jacob! She scares me,” Evie said, “but… I want to be with her.”

            “Then be with her,” Jacob said, “I’ll support you, Evie. You know that. Even if I think this woman… this vampiress is dangerous, I want you to be happy.” Jacob lifted Evie’s chin and looked at her. “We’re twins and we support each other.”

            “Yes,” Evie agreed. “Yes we are.”

 

* * *

 

            Evie sought out Élise after that. Élise was at first weary of Evie, fearing she would run off again, but after a few nights, the vampiress began relax around Evie, and their romance began. The night they made love was one Evie would never forget. The feel of Élise’s lips all over her body, how the chill of her skin sent pleasurable shivers through her passion-flushed body, and the things Élise could do with her tongue… sinful.

            It was one such night, after passionate love-making, that they lied there in bed. Élise toying with Evie’s long chocolate locks. “I’ve made love to men before… other vampires,” Élise said, “there’s a lot of biting and blood drinking involved, but with you… I can control my urge to feed during sex.”

            “Why?” Evie asked, lying on her back. Élise looked at her, smiled then shrugged before kissing her.

            “I don’t know,” Élise said, “maybe it’s because you are a woman, and such activities with a woman are different than with a man. I don’t know,” Élise smiled, “though I do prefer it. I don’t have to worry about drinking you dry.”

            “I would let you though,” Evie said, sitting up, “I would let you drink all my blood.”

            “You’re kind, Evie,” Élise said, cupping her lover’s face, “too kind I fear. I would never want that death to befall you. I’d have to live with myself and I couldn’t bear it.”

            “What if… you turned me? Made me into… a vampiress?” Evie asked. Élise’s eyes grew wide and she broke off contact with Evie.

            “No, Evie,” Élise hissed sharply. “Never ask me that question again. I will not curse you with this foul existence. Force you to watch all those that you love and hold dear be ravished by the savage onslaught of time. Force you to watch as all you ever known changes before your eye, your life… this time… forgotten.” Élise shook her head, clutching the necklace she wore. “No, I will not damn you in such a fashion.”

            Evie glanced away for a moment before scooting closer to Élise. She pressed her cheek against Élise’s smooth back and hugged her around the waist. “I’m sorry, my love,” Evie whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

            “I asked him… begged him even, to drink my blood, to accept this curse, to bear it with me,” Élise breathed. “He refused.”

            “Who?” Evie asked. Élise smiled before turning to face Evie. She kissed the Englishwoman, pulled her close until their breasts were flushed against each other. Élise pulled away, though she pressed her forehead against Evie’s.

            “Arno,” Élise whispered, her voice sad. “He died in my arms.”

            “Oh, Élise,” Evie whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

            “Don’t be _mon amour_ ,” Élise said, “I’ve… learned to live with the ache of his passing. I’ll always remember our life together, the love that we shared.” She unclasped the necklace and held it into her palm. She opened it, revealing it to be a locket. Within were two locks of hair, one dark brown and the other flame red. “I found this,” Élise said, “among his things back at the café, where he lived in Paris. My birthday is March 28th, he must’ve had this made for me… probably was planning to give it to me after we defeated Germain, as a badly belated birthday present.” Élise snapped the locket closed. “It’s all I have left of Arno now.”

            “You must’ve really loved him,” Evie said.

            “I did, my mistress said we were true soul-mates. Our souls’ twins of each other,” Élise sighed, “I have no idea where Arno’s soul is now. I haven’t felt it tug against me since his death.” Élise looked at Evie, “but that doesn’t stop me from loving you,” she whispered and pecked Evie on the lips before putting the necklace back on.

            “I wish I could easy your pain,” Evie said.

            “Oh but you have,” Élise assured her, “you have Evie. You simply being here, being my friend, my lover… just being alive has eased the ache in my heart. Nothing can ever replace Arno, but you… you make my amaranthine existence bearable.” Élise cupped Evie’s face, “Even if it’s just for a brief moment.”

            “I’m glad,” Evie breathed. “I’m glad that I can be the balm to your wound.”

            Élise smiled, before leaning over the bed and pulling something from her discarded clothes. “I notice you wear a pocket watch, so I want you to hold onto this for me.” She said, holding up a silver antique watch. “It belonged to Arno, I took it to a watch-smith after his death and had it repaired.” Élise dropped the silver pocket watch into Evie’s awaiting palm.

            “But… this belonged to Arno… I—”

            Élise pressed her finger to Evie’s lips. “I want you to hold on to it for me. So, I have an excuse to come back to London from time to time,” Élise giggled. Evie flushed.

            “I’m not a good enough excuse?” Evie asked, mock hurt in her voice. Élise laughed before kissing her, her hand running down between Evie’s breasts.

            “You are plenty of an excuse, but I can lie easier about a simple pocket watch then about you,” Élise said, “such liaisons between human and vampire aren’t exactly approved up by the elders.”

            “Oh,” Evie whispered, “all the more reason to keep it a secret then.”

            “Thus the pocket watch ruse,” Élise said. Evie nodded, clutching the pocket watch tightly.

            “I’ll take good care of it,” Evie said. “Until the day you return.”

 

 

* * *

 

_London, England, 1947_

 

            Élise found it hard to believe that war had ravished London, the repairs had done wonders to restore the place. She hadn’t heard from Evie since the autumn of 1888, when Jack the Ripper had terrorized Whitechapel. Élise had hastened to England from France to assist Evie in the hunt for the infamous murderer and Jacob.

            Élise had found Jacob: battered, beaten, and barely alive beneath an asylum. Élise had smeared his wounds with some of her blood, healing them and saving his life, though he was still a mess by the time Evie got to him. Evie hadn’t stayed in London long after that, and they had only one night together before Evie made her way back to India.

            Now, Evie lay dying in her bed. Once beautiful brown hair now a stormy grey, liver spots replaced her adorable freckles, her blue eyes had become rheumy with age, and wrinkles hung upon flesh-starved bones. Élise though stood before her, pristine and ageless, as if she had been carved from marble. “I thought I wouldn’t see you… after the Ripper…” Evie wheezed. Élise smiled sadly. Why must she lose another person she loved. Why must fate be so cruel to her. First it took her life, then it cursed her with this unlife, then it took Arno from her, and now… now it will claim Evie.

            Élise pulled up the chair and grabbed Evie’s hand. So small and gnarly now. Élise remembered when it was strong and full of life. How it left heated trails on her corpse-cold skin. “I thought you’d be in India?” Élise said. Evie shook her head.

            “Lydia called me… said that Jacob had died… last year, I had to return for his funeral, by the time it was over, I was too weary to go back to India. Besides, Henry’s dead… my girl… grown with a family of her own,” Evie sighed. “My daughter Élise, her name is Olivia. Beautiful girl, looks almost exactly like her father, but has my eyes.”

            “I’m happy to hear that, Evie. So very happy,” Élise said. Evie nodded, only to cough, a wet hacking sound, yet still Evie forced herself up and grabbed something on the nightstand. “You should save your strength.”

            “If you turn me,” Evie asked, “would I be restored to my youth?”

            _Yes. Yes, you would._ “No,” Élise lied, “you would be trapped in this body for all of eternity.”

            Evie closed her eyes with a sigh. “Thought as much,” Evie muttered. “Besides, I’ll see them again. Jacob, Henry, my father,” Evie stopped, “and I’ll finally get to meet her.”

            “Who?” Élise asked.

            “My mother,” Evie wheezed. “She died giving birth to me and Jacob. Her name was Cecily Frye,” Evie said. “She and my father were very much in love, reminded me of you and Arno.”

            “Oh Evie,” Élise whispered, tears pricking her eyes. Why was it so hard to let people go? Evie wish she could just die and be with those she loved.

            “Here,” Evie said, placing Arno’s pocket watch into Élise’s hand. “I’ve kept it safe, just like I promised. Even fixed it up too.”

            Élise popped it open, watching as the fine wrought hands ticked out the time. She remembered the one time Arno let her hold it. He had dove into the pond to catch a fish so they could scare the cook. He had given her the watch to keep it safe. Élise snapped it close. Remembering Arno caused her too much pain. “Thank you Evie,” Élise whispered.

            “Élise,” Evie whispered, “I’m dying… the doctors say I don’t have much longer, but I’ve always been a fighter and I know my stubborn old husk will drag this out until I no longer recognize anyone.”

            “Evie, please… don’t ask this of me,” Élise begged, the tears falling now.

            “I want you to end me, I heard dying of blood loss is like going to sleep. Painless. I can’t take any more pain.”

            “Evie, I—”

            “I love you Élise,” Evie whispered, “I’m glad we met in this life.”

            “I love you too, Evie, but please—”

            “Then do it,” Evie begged. “Do this one last request.” Élise took in Evie’s old, dying body. She heard the wet gasps for breath, the rattle in every exhale, and the stubbornness in the eyes of Evie Frye. Élise knew that what Evie was asking of her would be a mercy. Élise closed her eyes as she slipped Arno’s watch into her pocket. She sat on the bed, next to Evie and gently lifted her lover into a sitting position. Élise felt Evie wrap her frail arms around her. “I love you,” Evie whispered.

            Élise choked on her sob. “I’m sorry,” she replied before biting Evie’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> This is a bit of a sequel to Amaranthine.   
> I do like Evie and Élise, both as great friends and lovers. I had this idea on the way home and I decided to write it. I’ve been wanting to write more about vampire Élise, and this came as a perfect excuse to get Élise to Evie without doing a modern AU.   
> Save an author; leave a review.   
> Nemo et Nihil  
> PS: I made up Élise’s birthday, but since she’s the fiery Templar and Aries being the sign that rules her birthday it fits. Plus as a Fire sign Aries is Enthusiasm; drive to express self; faith and being a cardinal sign it’s also Action; dynamic; initiative; great force; which is pretty much Élise.


End file.
